Friends in High Places
by Ao Tianrong
Summary: So the First Evil sends the Turok-han, what's the First Good gonna send in? And how will the SiTs react to Spike?
1. Gathering at Home

This is my first BtVS fic so it would really mean a lot to me if you would review. This is only the INTRODUCTION don't worry, the actual Plot is coming really soon, and it's really good. Well, I think so anyway. Btw, this is a Post-Showtime fic.  
  
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Since about half way home, Buffy had been carrying most of Spike's weight since he was so weak, barely even conscious. She still had the knife in her hand in case the First didn't like its hostage being rescued and sent some Bringers or other rat-ass ugly creatures like the Turok-han. She wished she could just pitch it somewhere though, she had a feeling it didn't make Spike entirely comfortable.  
  
The whole journey had been spent with no one else in sight and when footsteps were heard, Buffy was glad she had kept the damn thing after all. She gripped the dagger tighter with her right hand while securing her left arm around Spike's waist and shaking him a little to make him more alert. They were only about a block from home. She could run, Spike could, well, not. Maybe it was just a passerby. Maybe mallard ducks could river-dance and speak fluent German. You just never know.  
  
The person was coming from across the street and right at them. Buffy's best bet was to just keep moving, her house would be in sight in a few minutes. Finally, when the footsteps got close enough and she could make out a person, she held up the dagger, her hand poised to throw it for a single deadly blow, if necessary and tried to shrink into the shadows as much as possible.  
  
Apparently, they weren't hidden as well as she'd hoped because as soon as the person was in visual range, *she* stopped, and stared.  
  
"Oh, hey . . . wow." she stuttered before coming to her senses. "Hey, um, do you need help there? I mean, cuz you look all crouchy and your buddy here looks like he's in a bit of pain. A bit a lot of pain."  
  
Buffy thought about it for a split second - her fatigue and aching muscles getting to her - before deciding how bad of a decision it would be. Not that she was feeling possessive or anything.  
  
"No, no, that's fine, but thanks anyway." Buffy said, lowering the knife, hoping the girl hadn't seen it before resuming the trudge home with her patient. Not 3 steps into the walk, Spike missed his footing and almost went crashing to the ground but Buffy pulled him back up.  
  
"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" the young girl said, making her way quickly to them and placing her right arm under Spike's left, supporting some of his weight. "Don't be stubborn, this guy needs help! And stop trying to hide that pretty little half-sword thing, you're just gonna end up cutting yourself."  
  
Buffy just stood there shocked by the brashness this young stranger was displaying. She didn't seem to notice. Instead, she just took a good look at Spike and her frowning her eyebrows in confusion.  
  
"Hun. Is it loss of blood or are you a vampire?" she asked with innocent curiosity.  
  
Buffy was at a complete loss for words but she knew this couldn't end well.  
  
"Okay, thanks anyway but really, we don't have far to go. So, thanks, but . . . bye."  
  
"Oh don't be crazy. This guy needs help. Dead or not, he's hurt." she stopped to hold Buffy's wrist before continuing. "And since you aren't a vampire, but you're still helping him, he must be at least semi- trustworthy. Or at the very least, yet very probably, not in any condition to fight back so. . . where to Chief?"  
  
Buffy still wasn't sure.  
  
"Look, you wanna check me for a stake or some bottle-bible water? Cuz feel free to, however, I think your boy here is gonna pass out, so you might wanna make it quick."  
  
Buffy whipped her head to look at Spike. He really did look like he was hanging onto his last thread.  
  
"Okay, fine. Um, it's this way."  
  
"Great."  
  
While they were walking, Buffy decided to keep an eye on their new friend in case she decided to pull anything. She was young, around 15 she guessed. She had dirty blond hair, three very obvious layers, each about 3 - 4 inches long. Each layer's first locks and rim were a different colour. The first was red, the next, light blue, and the last was fluorescent green. Kind of wacky. She was about Buffy's height, not very fit. At all. In the least. She was wearing dark green army pants - the kind that turns into shorts - , a really baggy white shirt and an Adidas spring jacket. She had earphones around her neck, the cord leading into her pocket, and a huge backpack that looked like it was going to snap at the seams because of over-packing. Her sudden chuckle brought Buffy crashing back to reality.  
  
"What?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"Hehe, nothing. It's just that -" the girl stopped as did Buffy and without a choice in the matter, Spike did too.  
  
"Okay. Hi, I'm Cassandra."  
  
Only then did Buffy realize that she hadn't even thought to ask. "Oh, right, hi, I'm Buffy. And, uh, this is Spike."  
  
Cassandra smiled and chuckled again. "Hi." She then leaned closer to Spike and whispered so she wouldn't disturb his semi-conscious haze. "And hi to you."  
  
And they resumed their journey. Cassandra took this time to peer over at the vampire she was helping. 'Weird, yet, not so much. Not anymore anyway.' She could tell that he was really handsome. Under the bruises and the swelling of course. High cheekbones, nice. She grinned. Nice hair too, she'd been planning on dying hers a few shades 'bleacher' than that, just to give the snow a run for its money. He was very built, kind of obvious when she was holding onto him and of course the fact that he was shirtless. Nice abs, very very nice abs, built biceps. She followed the arm draped over her shoulders and admired his hands, almost delicate although she doubted this guy could ever break. Look what he's been through. She winced when she saw the burn marks from the leather handcuffs that were peeking out from under the brown straps.  
  
Cassandra could also tell that his saviour, for lack of a better assumption, was very strong. She was also beat up, less, but still beat up. Her face was stone but Cassandra was very gifted at reading people. She could see the worry, the apprehension, the suspicion, the sympathy and lastly and foremost, the caring, obviously for the battered man . . . vampire. Also, the fact that the thumb attached to the arm holding him up was moving back and forth, caressing his side in a soothing manner. 'I don't think she even notices.' Cassandra thought.  
  
In no time, they were climbing the front steps.  
  
"Hey, before I leave and everything, um, could you tell where I could find 1630 Revello Drive?" Cassandra asked, an anticipatory cringe on her face at the prospect of being lost again.  
  
Buffy just stared at her. "You're on its porch." she replied.  
  
Cassandra's face was blank in puzzlement. She blinked once, turned her head to the door to see the numbers 1630 on it before facing Buffy again.  
  
"Woah, okay, that was dumb. Sorry, I'm kind of . . . clueless sometimes." she apologized, mentally berating her idiocy. "Urgh, and of course, you're Buffy . . . Summers. Duh, cuz how many Buffy's can there be? Well, I guess it's a good thing I ran in to you, eh? I was sent to you." she finished ranting with a smile  
  
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Please review! ^_^ thx! ^_~ 


	2. Postponing Hatred

I'm so glad I was able to write this chapter so fast but it was only because you all reviewed! ^_^ Your reviews really motivated me to write, so, please review this one too! And I want to thank JoeB1451, lady z, Night Slayer, Katie, southern cross, Vaan_Silverbane and Anne Rose for reviewing. Thanks you guys! Now on with the story!  
  
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LAST CHAPTER  
  
". . . Well, I guess it's a good thing I ran in to you, eh? I was sent to you." she finished ranting with a smile.  
  
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Buffy was about to ask her what she meant, cuz, not to be offensive, but she was obviously not Slayer in Training material, but the door swung open to reveal a shocked Willow.  
  
"Oh Goddess! Is he okay?"  
  
Willow had never really hated Spike. Not since he had gotten the Initiative's chip and he had tried to bite her. That night, she had seen a different side to him, not really a good one, but one that showed her that he wasn't a mindless killer.  
  
Xander was now at the doorway as well as Dawn, Anya, the SiTs and a recently-freed Andrew. He still hated the vampire, with a passion, but they did need him and in the state he was in, Xander couldn't help but feel pity at the very least. He would have gone to support Spike's other side but he saw that that position was being occupied by an unknown girl.  
  
'Oh well, there will be time for questions later.' He thought as he instead busied himself by clearing the path to the couch in the living room, moving both objects and curious teenagers.  
  
Buffy was so relieved at her friends' reactions that her knees threatened to give way as her forced solidarity was brought down a notch to make room for fatigue. She realized that her shock had kept her rooted on the doorstep when Cassandra started walking inside, pulling Spike which tugged Buffy forward. They made their way slowly but confidently because there were about 4 people on either side of them ready to help if need be. Buffy's heart swelled as she took in the trust her friends were showing in her.  
  
Cassandra just concentrated on her feet, making sure she wouldn't accidentally trip Spike as they turned the corners. She had seen the red head and the tall, dark and so-so guy, in her opinion, and figured they must be Buffy's friends. The others, all girls except for one, seemed to be holding back. Most seemed curious, one blond seemed slightly worried and a younger brunette looked angry but Cassandra could still see the caring in her eyes.  
  
They got to the sofa and realized that Spike was pretty much unconscious. They began to sit him down when the new position brought Spike reeling back to reality when the pain of misplaced bones assaulted him. He let out a strangle gasp and the girls immediately stopped their movements. A moment passed where Spike remained completely tense, not moving a muscle in fear that the pain might worsen.  
  
"Spike." Buffy called, trying to get him to concentrate on her instead of the pain. "Spike." She called again, in a voice much softer than most people in that room had ever heard her use. It seemed to grab his attention though as he turned his head slightly and slowly trying to figure out if she was real or not.  
  
Buffy's lips quirked slightly in relief when she saw the recognition in his eyes.  
  
"Spike, we need you to sit down okay?"  
  
He tried to look behind him to see what the back of his shins were touching and he realized where he was. He nodded and they managed to sit him down with Buffy beside him greeting the rest with much gratitude.  
  
Buffy took this time to glance at their audience. Xander was to her left, standing at the end of the couch not looking very happy but not voicing his dislike for the situation, for which she was very grateful. Willow was standing next to Dawn looking very worried and curious, probably about Cassandra. Dawn still looked angry but a lot less, letting her worry seep through. Anya was next to Andrew, she seemed to be acting as a guard of sorts, making sure he couldn't run away if he was still afraid of Spike, understandable of course, but still. . . Although he was kind of annoying, kind of a lot, still doing the "Kameha meha" gestures from Dragonball Z. Kennedy was close to Willow, her face expressing nothing. Vi was huddling in a corner behind Molly, who looked ready to burst with questions and Rhona and Chloe who seemed a cross between dislike and reluctant pity. There was also a girl whom Buffy had never seen before. She was tall with long black hair, olive skin and wide eyes. She looked Asian, probably Korean.  
  
Giles just walked in with bags of groceries and halted at the sight that greeted him. He had needed an excuse to get out of the house, his nerves had been on the fritz deciding whether or not Spike's return would be a good thing and since Buffy had wanted to go alone, he had nothing to do but wait. He set his bags down, roamed his eyes over the beaten bodies of the two blonds and the stranger on the sofa before finally breaking the silence that had fallen over them since they had sat down.  
  
"Well then, we'd best get him fixed up. Willow, would you get the supplies? Dawn, I bought some blood if you'd like to prepare it?"  
  
As the girls set off to their appointed tasks and Buffy's shock was subdued, the rest of the people seemed uneasy.  
  
"Why don't you all get some rest? We can do the whole Inquisition thing tomorrow?" Buffy suggested looking primarily at Xander and Anya then the rest, seeking their approval.  
  
"Good idea, Buff." Xander said.  
  
"Yes, and it would be if you all weren't bleeding on Molly's bed." Anya said with her usual bluntness.  
  
"Oh, right. Okay well, sunrise is a few hours so we might as well get Spike to the basement. Xander, could you make sure that no sun can get through down there?" she asked.  
  
"No problem." he replied as he headed upstairs to get some heavy blankets.  
  
"Cassandra, can you help me bring him downstairs?"  
  
Cassandra smiled at the small vote of confidence she was receiving from the famous slayer. It was obvious she still wasn't completely trusted but that was just because she hadn't had a chance to explain who she was.  
  
"Sure." she said, nodding.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy asked, wondering if he was still with them and getting a small grunt as a reply.  
  
"We have to move you okay? More stairs, but not up so it should be easier."  
  
"Alright, luv." he mumbled not really understanding what she was saying, his head hurt so much, but he was willing to do anything she asked of him, half un-undead or not.  
  
As they stood, with a noticeable groan, Willow came back and Buffy told her to get Dawn and to come down to the basement.  
  
They went down the stairs, Buffy in front in case Spike fell and Cassandra behind him trying to support him by the shoulders. Like this, they got down just in time to see Xander, having finished with the small windows, setting up the cot with new sheets and a pillow.  
  
Spike couldn't really think clearly through the haze that was covering his mind but what Xander was doing for him registered and as they passed each other, Spike put his hand on Xander's arm and effectively stopped him. He gave Xander a look that clearly conveyed his thanks and Xander simply nodded. They understood each other. They didn't like each other but that wasn't the biggest problem they had at the moment.  
  
Willow had already brought down their medical kit and was just standing-by in case she could help somehow. Buffy and Cassandra led Spike to the cot and sat him down as Dawn came down with the blood in a mug. She was a little uneasy since she was supposed to be angry at the vampire but her stupid worry kept overpowering her. She looked at her sister who didn't seem to be sending any hate vibes at Spike and figured she would follow suite, at least for now.  
  
"Heal fast, okay?" she said, those words being the only ones that came to mind. She then turned to Buffy and Willow.  
  
"Everyone is settled in, well, the trainees and Andrew are settled in. Giles, Xander and Anya are in the kitchen probably waiting for you guys. So, I'm gonna go to bed too, k?" she reported.  
  
"Sure, yeah. Thanks Dawn." Buffy replied.  
  
"Oh, before you go to bed, can you find some place for Cassandra? In the living room, or maybe your room?" asked, suddenly remembering the young stranger.  
  
Dawn looked over to the blond girl who had helped her sister and said, "Sure, come with me. Good night you guys." she finished, making eye contact with Willow, Buffy and lastly, Spike, making sure he knew he was included.  
  
As Spike caught her eyes, he was filled with love for the little brunette and he nodded his good night.  
  
"Goodnight Dawnie" said Willow.  
  
"Goodnight, and Cassandra, thanks for your help. We'll talk tomorrow okay?" said Buffy.  
  
"No problem and of course." she left them with a small smile. "Get better Spike."  
  
"Willow, thanks. You should go get some rest too." Buffy told the Wiccan.  
  
Willow nodded and said goodnight, smiling inside at the obvious reason she had been advised to get some sleep. She crept up the stairs and into the kitchen, giving a small smile to the Scooby Gang assemble there as she closed the basement door behind her thus leaving Buffy and Spike alone together.  
  
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Don't worry, Spuffiness on the way. I mean, hello? Spike, Buffy . . . alone? Think of the possibilities! Hehe, sorry. Please review! ^_^ thx! ^_~ 


	3. Healing Hearts and Souls

Chapter 3 : Healing Hearts and Souls  
  
Hey everybody. I am so so sorry for not updating until now. I know what it's like to wait for chapters but I've been through a whole lot since I wrote and posted the last chapter. Now, it's vacation time, and in only 4 hours, I wrote this chapter so the rest should follow soon. I want to thank everyone who reviewed because honestly I had given up writing a while back and when I checked this fic, wondering what I should do, I saw that there were 19 reviews for only 2 chapters. My heart soared you guys!  
  
So thanks to : southern cross, Vaan_Silverbane, Anne Rose, Lux1, msu, Katie94, Simple Confusion, Night Slayer, slayer, kili-2, Spuffy, LittleDrusilla, lady z and JoeB1451 for your reviews!! Seriously, thank you soooo much, you've all saved my will to write. Now enough with the mushies, please read on. As I promised, lots of Spuffiness ahead. Please review, you know how much it means to me, and if you have any requests or ideas, please let me know. *I also have another story on the way. Major Spikey goodness!*  
  
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Willow nodded and said goodnight, smiling inside at the obvious reason she had been advised to get some sleep. She crept up the stairs and into the kitchen, giving a small smile to the Scooby Gang assembled there as she closed the basement door behind her thus leaving Buffy and Spike alone together.  
  
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As Willow closed the door behind her, Buffy let out a sigh. Healing and cleaning a wound could be really painful and looking at the canvas Spike's body had become courtesy of the First and its minions, it probably wouldn't make much difference if she were cleaning him with Holy water rather than tap. The lump in her throat that had formed itself back in the cave, when she first laid eyes on him, hadn't left since and it was threatening to explode as the Niagara of all waterworks.  
  
"Let's get started then," she said picking up the cloth and water bucket Willow must have brought down.  
  
She crouched down in front of Spike and gently picked up his hand. She laid it on her own, palm-to-palm, and ran the cloth over the bruises, split skin and dried blood as lightly as possible. Spike said nothing; he just stared at her with those expressive eyes, displaying unrestrained amazement at the love of his life who had not only rescued him but was now patching him up with such tenderness. When Buffy got to his wrists, she realized she'd need a knife or some scissors to get the leather manacles off.  
  
"Oh right, I have to go get some scissors or something for those, okay? Hold on, I'll be right back," Buffy told him, replacing the cloth in the bucket and standing up to make her way to her tools' shelf.  
  
She hadn't made it two steps when a cold – but now clean – hand clamped down on her wrist, effectively stopping her.  
  
"Spike?" she questioned.  
  
A moment or two passed where their eyes were locked and neither could pull away.  
  
"You...you came," he croaked, his throat still sore but his eyes shining with joy.  
  
Buffy was floored with disbelief and remorse. *How could he think I'd just leave him there!? Probably 'cuz not too long ago, I might have,* she thought miserably. She couldn't find the words, her heart felt heavy with guilt and it didn't get better when her eyes caught the few tears silently trekking their way down Spike's previously flawless face. She could feel her own eyes becoming misty and was about to reply when he continued.  
  
"She.. – IT said ... you wouldn't come ... no one woul- ... they hate me ... 'told 'er different I did...told her..." his voice was soft and he stared at the ground. "'Told her ... you came."  
  
He looked at her again and smiled weakly, giving the hand he held a small squeeze.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered.  
  
"Oh my god, Spike."  
  
She practically flew the couple of steps to him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him to her as tightly as she could without aggravating his wounds.  
  
"Of course I came, Spike. Of course I came," she whispered and pulled back slightly to look at his face, but not removing her arms. "I couldn't leave you there, Spike."  
  
"I knew," he responded with a sad smile. "You need me up and about for the battle and what not. I know."  
  
This is where she wanted to slap him, or rather, herself, since it was her fault he thought this way. She had decided though, that she wouldn't use that anymore; it was words that Spike needed, so damn if she was gonna give him otherwise. Her hand cupped the side of his face, bringing his eyes to meet her.  
  
"No Spike, I do need you to fight with us when the time comes, but I need you here for me. I need you."  
  
Hope flickered in his eyes but was soon transformed into skeptical confusion.  
  
"I'm sorry, Spike," she said sincerely and cringed as he was visibly blown away. *It shouldn't be like this* she thought.  
  
She was afraid she wasn't ready to say the things he needed to hear but she was even more afraid of leaving things as they were: with them still Grand Canyons apart. He deserved to hear it but thinking back on all she was about to apologize for, she couldn't bear to look at him while she did.  
  
"I'm sorry for the words, the beatings, the constant rejections, for playing with your emotions," she started as her tears too started their plunge, surrendering to gravity.  
  
"I'm sorry for using you, making you feel...worthless, for...using your love for me against you."  
  
He wiped her tears away with his thumbs but they kept coming.  
  
"I was scared, and angry with everyone, and I wasn't ready," she continued.  
  
"What weren't you ready for, luv?" he asked gently, letting the pet name slip.  
  
"I wasn't ready to live again, I wasn't ready to take responsibility, I didn't want it. I'm so sorry for everything. Please believe me. I'm sorry."  
  
She held him closer, crying months' worth of guilt and remorse.  
  
Spike was torn between elation – at knowing she actually cared enough to apologize even though he'd forgiven her when it happened – and sadness because his love was crying over him. His right hand sifted soothingly through her hair while his left held her to him despite the protests from his ribs and collarbone.  
  
"Slayer," he called, not wanting to slip again and call her anything too familiar. It was a little hard though since she wasn't responding.  
  
"Slayer... Buffy, luv," he tried again and was rewarded when she reluctantly pulled away to look at him.  
  
"It's alright, luv. It's forgotten. It was all forgiven a long time ago," he reassured her.  
  
"How can you forgive me so easily? Everything I put you through..." she protested but he cut her off before she could continue.  
  
"I knew what you were going through, Buffy, I knew how hard it was for you. You needed an outlet. Besides, it's nothing compared to what I-" he couldn't finish. He stared at the ground thinking back to the night where he destroyed everything, the night in the bathroom.  
  
She knew what he was thinking of and wondered at how, in his mind, that single act, that single almost act could so outweigh months if not years of mental and physical abuse. She didn't think for a second that what he did was okay but she had done her share of damage and he hardly gave that a second thought.  
  
"Spike," she called, her tears in check and her breathing under control once more, she grabbed his face with both hand to assure eye contact and clarity of words.  
  
"I forgive you, Spike."  
  
He opened his mouth to protest against such easy forgiveness but Buffy forged on.  
  
"I've forgiven you Spike, it's been a long time. Let's start over, okay? Let's have that friendship again, let's talk again, let's have what we had before I died. And maybe, we can build our way from there, one day."  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
The way he looked at her, as though she had given him the world and more, made her heart swell. Finally she had done something to make him happy. Spike, on the other hand, couldn't believe what was happening. She was giving him...them... a second chance? He didn't understand exactly why but it wasn't something he was about to pass up. He gave her the biggest smile he could, given the givens, and, when she returned it, he was certain he had died back in that cave and someone up there screwed up cuz he was in heaven. Eventually, though reluctantly, they moved out of each other's arms; Buffy still had her patient to mend.  
  
She got up to get the scissors knowing full well that Spike's eyes never left her and felt better than she had in a really long time. Despite the impending doom the First Evil had undoubtedly planned for her and her gang, she felt almost...at peace. She returned to her task, cut off the manacles, tended the wounds, set the broken bones, cleaned the blood, stitched the deep wounds and wrapped all wounds on his arms with the gauze. The silence that now hung over them was completely comfortable.  
  
Halfway through a particularly difficult stitching, Spike passed out with his back leaning against the wall. Buffy was very grateful; his torso wounds would be so much more painful than those on his arms were. As she ran the cloth over his sculpted chest of once-smooth marble, but now a painful mural of blue, black and red, she remembered the times when she had fallen into a light sleep on this very chest. When she was exhausted after having scratched another itch at Spike's expense, she remembered waking and dressing quickly, desperate to get home before anyone discovered she had gone. Now, she was determined to make sure that the next time she fell asleep on this powerful, yet safe-feeling chest, she would stay until its owner awoke, which meant that she had to fight the temptation now since the gang was still waiting upstairs waiting for their little chat; if she fell asleep here and now, she would not be waking any time soon. It surprised her, not the fact that she wanted there to be a 'next time' but that she was so willing to admit it, even if only to herself, for the moment.  
  
She wrapped his battered ribs – most of them broken – and stitched up the deep cuts, hoping the original ritualistic wounds didn't scar. *Neat design, but really really bad memories* she thought. She was wringing the bloody water out of the cloth when he came around.  
  
"Hey," she called softly, "How are you feeling?"  
  
His answer what a small smirk and the raising of his mildly painful eyebrow to convey a look that clearly said, though good-humoredly: "Are you serious? Luv, I'll give you three guesses and 2.5 of those don't count."  
  
"Right," she chuckled. "Well, I've finished your arms and chest, I need to do your legs, back and head."  
  
She took a deep breath. "Do you think you can help me with your pants?"  
  
She knew all too well that Spike went commando and she prayed that things didn't get awkward. He knew, as he always did, what she was thinking and thought up a better plan.  
  
"She didn't get many shots there, luv. I think m'leg might be broken but nothin' else too serious. All the blood there's from things above the waist," he reassured.  
  
"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully.  
  
"'M sure, pet. Nothin' a nice shower in the mornin' won't fix, 'cept for m'budgered leg o'course."  
  
"Okay, let's set that leg then," she suggested.  
  
With the scissors, she cut up Spike's left pant leg and hated herself every moment while she had to set his severely broken leg. It had been broken in at least three obvious places and hurt like a bitch, judging by Spike's even paler complexion to set. Finally, the job was done and they took a little breather before continuing.  
  
"Can you lie down on your stomach? I'll get to your back," she asked.  
  
"'Can always try," he replied.  
  
And try they did but even with Buffy's help, he couldn't manage it without his ribs scraping each other in all the wrong places. In the end, he just scooted up further off the cot so that Buffy could sit behind him with her back to the wall.  
  
Spike couldn't believe how gently she was caring for him and that they were starting their second chance. He would be more than happy to stay like this forever, in this little bubble to which the rest of the world didn't know the password. Buffy was feeling similarly free but something was distinctly nagging at her, picking at her brain.  
  
"Spike," she began softly and a soft hum told her he was listening. "Spike, when you talked of the First, you referred to it as 'she'. Whose form did it take?"  
  
He took a while to answer and Buffy was regretting asking the question; it must be painful for him to think of and she had a feeling she might not want to know. Finally, she thought he wasn't going to answer her and opened her mouth to tell him to forget about it but a single shattering word stopped her.  
  
"Yours," he murmured and felt her stop her ministrations to his back.  
  
That single word sent waves of guilt crashing into her. *It was my face he saw torturing him. It was my body taunting him. He saw me trying to break him, destroy his soul, his spirit. I tortured him. * she thought.  
  
"I'm sorry," Spike said softly after a while. He didn't know what he was apologizing for, but the First had violated her image, it seemed only right.  
  
"Spike!" she sighed heavily.  
  
She put the cloth and the wraps beside her on the cot and pulled him towards her so that his back was resting against her chest. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and rested her hands on his, her thumbs stroking the back of his hands, her arms keeping him to her firmly.  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you hear me? Nothing! You were tortured for god's sake. You have nothing to be sorry for anymore, neither of us does remember? It's our fresh start," she told him firmly.  
  
Her left hand stayed on his while her right one strayed to his upper-arm, lightly tracing an undecipherable pattern on a patch of skin that wasn't bruised. Eventually, he spoke.  
  
"I didn't tell 'er anything," he told her quietly needing to feel that she had reason to trust him.  
  
Buffy startled him by chuckling. A satisfied smile played at her lips, pleased with herself that her next words could be spoken truthfully.  
  
"I never thought you had," she replied.  
  
For a while, they stayed like that, content in each other's arms, Spike's head resting on Buffy shoulder. She knew he had drifted off again when he stopped breathing and his body became heavier. She nimbly crawled out from behind him minding his leg and lay him down on his mostly bandaged back; she had started with the big wounds so the rest should be okay for now. A smile tugged at her lips and she let it come, happy just watching him rest, knowing he was safe with her once again. She started her final task of cleaning off his face.  
  
Being careful not to wake him, she used the cloth to trace his cheekbones, the hollow of his cheek, his characteristic – though broken – nose, his largely swollen eye, his less swollen eye, his bloodied and creased forehead, his bruised chin and finally, his blistered lips. Even bloody and cracked those lips could call to her and she marveled that such simple things could hold such power.  
  
Taking another moment to look at him, finally free of dust, dirt and blood save for his hair and other leg, she vowed that whatever relationship grew between them, it would be positive. The vampire who loved both herself and her sister, who would and had sacrificed so much for them, for her would not be left in the dust or shadows anymore. She hoped with all her heart that it was a promise she could fulfill. Spike's forehead creased in his sleep and she dreaded to know what he might be dreaming of, knowing it couldn't be pretty.  
  
"I'm here Spike, I can protect you now. You're safe here. Sleep," she said.  
  
She ran her fingers through his dirty hair, deciding that could be fixed tomorrow with that shower of his. She put everything away, moved the blood closer to the cot in case he woke up, covered him with a wool blanket even though she doubted the cold would bother him, and got up to leave. She turned to look at him and smiled at his now peaceful expression. She gave his smooth forehead a chaste but sincere kiss and smiled sadly.  
  
"I do care for you, Spike. I don't know yet...how much, but I do care about you. You're important to me. I'll just have to start showing it more often. Maybe even dare to tell you all this when you're conscious," she finished as she stroked his hair once more before whispering her goodnight and making her way up the stairs to her awaiting public.  
  
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Hey, so Doc manager says that there are over 3400 words so I hope that the length might make up for a little bit of the huge delay. And again I'm really sorry. Anyway, please review and keep in mind that story ideas are welcome. Thanks. AoTianrong  
  
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